


30 Day OTP Challenge

by PatchworkKat



Series: Athros Chronicles [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:46:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 13,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4911142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchworkKat/pseuds/PatchworkKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying a 30 challenge for my Inquisitor Athros Lavellan and Dorian Pavus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One: Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Day One: Holding Hands

Blankets and furs were scattered over the floor. Panted gasps and moans mingled with the loud creak of the bed. Athros arched his back, desperate to angle Dorian properly. His fingers would leave bruises in the backs of his knees with how tight he was holding on but he couldn’t feel it, not now. Not while Dorian moved inside him, the slick lube allowing him to pound against that perfect little spot again and again. Each hit drawing another rasping cry from the elf.

With each thrust Dorian whispered sweet words in a language Athros didn’t understand. It was his own little sign that he was close himself. Unable to remember anything but his own native tongue. Not that Athros was much better. His entire vocabulary had boiled down to three words; Dorian, yes, and please. Dorian’s nails cut into his hips and he could feel the man shuttering above him. His voice turned pleading though whether he begged for Athros’ release or his, the elf couldn’t tell.

He freed one hand by draping his leg over his lover’s shoulder. Dorian turned to press soothing kisses into the bruised, aching skin. Gliding his fingers over his own aching cock he let out a whimpering moan. Dorian moaned out what he assumed was encouragement. Each pump of his hand mirrored a thrust of Dorian’s hips.

It didn’t take long after that. A few quick pumps and he felt himself burst apart. He body tensed and arched. His mouth fell open on a silent scream of Dorian’s name. The world slipped out from under him and he was floating in a moment of pure bliss. Vaguely he heard his own name cried out and felt the thick heat of his lover fill him. Desperate lips claimed his in a breathless kiss until the two collapsed against each other in exhaustion.

Athros closed his eyes, sated and content. He blindly found Dorian’s hand in the tangled mess that were their bodies and held tight. Too exhausted to beg him to stay, too dizzy to chase him if he left, it was the only way he could think of to hold him there. Dorian gave his hand a light squeeze of reassurance, or perhaps to check if it was really there, then nuzzled close.

That was how he fell asleep. A mess of dark hair splayed across his chest and panted breath fanning out across his skin. All the while their fingers interlocked in a silent plea to be together. 


	2. Day Two: Cuddling

The first few trips Dorian ignored. He was far too involved in translating the text in front of him to bother with noting who traipsed in and out of his little alcove. Even if that someone was his lover. The glass of wine magically appearing in his hand was the first thing that caught his attention. So used to the watered down Ferelden vintage that was a favorite in Skyhold, the sudden burst of a Tevinter spiced wine had him moaning in pleasure. It drew his eye to the small side table beside him which he found overflowing with cheeses and fruits from home. 

Only then did he bother to look up when, yet again, a man slipped past his chair into the alcove. He watched as the Inquisitor dumped an armful of pillows onto an already large pile. Before he could say a word the man skipped off back down the stairs, presumably for more. 

When he skipped back it was with a large sheet which he fastened over the alcove, essentially blocking them in. “Finished reading? Or do I need to celebrate our anniversary alone?” He stole a quick kiss before settling on his pillow pile, arms open wide. 

“Anniversary? We’ve only been dating a few weeks now.” Still, Dorian slipped into his arms and Athros drew him into a slow, loving kiss. 

“Anniversary of our first kiss. Which I consider when we started dating.” His hands worked their way into Dorian’s pants, gripping his ass and pulling him close. A part of Dorian considered complaining, after all the library could hardly be empty, but the rest of him just wanted to cuddle close. 

“I love you.” Dorian whispered the words, still unsure he was allowed to say it out loud. Instead of an awkward brush off, it earned him another long, heated kiss. The pair cuddled for hours, daring to steal fleeting touches and heated kisses in the crowded library. 


	3. Day Three: Seeing a play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it's more to and from the play but I thought it was cute.

Dorian just wanted one normal date. Not a secret hook up in the War Room, not a quiet dinner hidden away in the Inquisitor’s chambers, but an honest date out in public. It wasn’t that the inquisitor was hiding him, no, quite the other way around. Dorian hadn’t wanted their love made public for fear of how people would look at Athros. Not that it was a real secret with Athros openly confessing his love with every breath. 

Tonight though, Dorian swore he’d be brave. Of course, that did nothing to quell his trembling as their carriage neared Val Royeaux most popular theater. Still a block away and the streets were feel of Orlisians dressed in their best on their way to see _Avaline: The Rise and Fall_ , a favorite play just before the tourney. 

Athros shifted on his side of the carriage, cuddling closer to Dorian. “I’ll never get over how many of you pack into cities like this.” The elf mused. “Rooting down in one place forever, never moving… It must be so dull.” 

“Some of us like the security of a house.” In the safety of the carriage he had no problem wrapping his arms around the smaller man. No one could see them touch here. 

“Would you stay behind if I wanted to follow my clan again?” 

“Yes.” The answer was quick and eager. Dorian would follow this man through the Fade and back (again) without question. “So long as you promised to settle in a nice warm cabin with me come winter.” 

“Hmmm, a winter traipsing through the snow, or cuddled warm in your arms. Such a difficult decision.” Outside the theater finally came into view. Like all of Val Royeaux it was large and imposing with glittering statues of Andraste holding her holy flame aloft. Athros made a noise of disgust as he watched the mass of people cramming through its wide doors but made no true complaint over Dorian’s choice. 

When the carriage door opened Dorian instinctively pushed Athros way and blushed a vibrant red at having been caught holding another man. Some habits were near impossible to break. “Athros I-“

“It’s fine Dorian I’m used to it.” Their valet helped him from the carriage and he started into the crowd without waiting, giving Dorian the space he thought the man wanted. So much for being brave. 

“Athros! WAIT!” Vaulting out of the carriage he shoved through the crowd to the Inquisitor’s side. He felt like every pair of eyes hidden behind those stupid masks were glued to him as he wrapped an arm around the elf’s waist and pulled him close. It was worth it for the look of complete surprise on his lover’s face. “This is a date isn’t it? We should stick together.” 

“As you wish ma vhenan.” Dorian held him as they made their way to the Inquisitor’s private box. It was easier with each step. The whispers and stares fell away and it was just the two of them. Maybe it was something he could get used to after all. 

\----

“I’m just saying, they know nothing about the dalish.” Athros concluded with a laugh. The couple wandered hand-in-hand along the water front, neither ready for the night to end. 

“Those masks were hilarious.” The elves in the play were played by humans with ridiculous elven masks. Athros had spent half the night commenting on every little misstep. “Just imagine how bad it will be when they tell your story.” That had him grimacing. 

“They’ll ruin my vallaslin. And those ears! My ears are not that big.” He tugged at the ends to emphasize the point. 

“Worse, they’ll convert you.” 

His jaw dropped in shock. “Fenedhis! They wouldn’t dare! Oh they’ll call me the Harold won’t they. Make me less elven. Awww, now I want the big ears.” His pout was so cute that Dorian couldn’t help nabbing a kiss. “They’d make you a blood mage. The blood mage that seduced the Inquisitor.” 

Dorian groaned as they neared their inn. A lovely little hidden gem that would house them until the returned to Skyhold. “Then we sick Leliana on anyone that dares to write it. For now, let’s get to our room so I can seduce you some more.” He gave one final public kiss before hurrying off ahead of him to their room. He’d had enough public for one night after all. 


	4. Day Four: on a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more information on Athros' markings, or the reason Dorian doesn't like the idea of his lover in Tevintor, please see my fic Branded.

The idea was born from hours of playing over Athros’ skin. Doran’s lips had traced the line of each glorious tattoo until he memorized their pattern on his flesh. Nearly every inch of him was covered in those glorious brightly colored markings. Getting matching tattoos seemed so innocent when he’d first asked. Now he realized what a nightmare it was. Athros fit in so well at Skyhold that Dorian often forgot he wasn’t used to human culture. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what confused him the most, but he wiggled anxiously in his seat while they waited their turn.

“So we just tell them what to do? Why don’t they already know? Why is there so much noise?” Each word was uttered so close to the first is sounded as if they all came from one breath.

“It’s not like the Dalish ceremony.” Not that he really knew anything about how Athros got his tattoos. He knew it was a sacred rite and that it was silent, but that was it. “Besides, you’ve gotten a non-religious tattoo. That Fen’Harel thing. It’s like that.” 

“Like that?” Dorian nodded eagerly. “Like when I had a drunken archer tattoo my ass after sex? He didn’t even spell it right Dorian!” 

“Okay not exactly like that. You’re not sleeping with the tattoo artist on our date for one, and he’s not drunk.” He tried to smile encouraging but it did nothing to dislodge that frown. “We could leave if you’re that uncomfortable, Amatus. I just thought it could be nice.”

Dorian stood to leave but a little tug on his hand had him sitting once more. “I can handle it. It’s just weird for me. We come from such different worlds…”

Before he could start brooding Dorian stole a kiss. “Yes, we do, and I wouldn’t have you any other way. You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t Dalish.” Just the thought of the broken shell of a man he would have been in Tevintor made Dorain shutter. He knew exactly what sort of life his beloved would have led and it chilled him to the bone. Another kiss to warm his soul and another because kissing Athros was addictive.

“The Lords Lavellan-Pavus? We ready for you two now.” A shop clerk called.

“The- Maker’s Breath we’re not married. I must have filled out the paper work wrong I-“

“Lavellan-Pavus… Not a bad last name.” Athros mused, shutting Dorian right up. “Well, dear? I believe you need to show me what to do.” Dear was a nickname that would destroy him. Athros made falling in love look so easy. As if there weren’t a million reasons why they shouldn’t be together.

In the end Dorian received a tattoo of a red halla with Athros’ vallaslin on its face and Athros received a snake-like dragon with a scale pattern that looked suspiciously like a mustache. Each tattoo rested on its owner’s right hip. 


	5. Day Five: Kissing

“The inquisitor’s back!” A scout called as he ran through the library. Dorian lurched to his feet, finally letting out the sigh he’d been holding in. Never again was that man allowed to leave Skyhold without him. He didn’t care how cold the Emprise Du Lion was. The scout stopped at Dorian’s alcove and the look on face stopped Dorian’s heart. “Report says he’s injured sir.” 

That bastard was certainly never leaving his side again. Dorian took the stairs two at a time, briefly contemplating taking one out of Athros’ play book and jumping off balconies just to get to the infirmary faster. Half of Skyhold seemed to be crowded around the tiny building behind the tavern, forcing him to shove his way through. 

“Dorian!” Cole was the first to find him and tug him through the crowd but the others followed quickly. Cassandra and Vivienne parting the group with their commanding voices. The little spirit rushed him into the darkened room where Athros, bright and vibrant Athros, lay out on a cot in his smalls, half his body covered in bandages. “He didn’t see the behemoth coming.” Cole explained quietly. “He’s much better now. We couldn’t move him at first.” 

“Better? This is better?!” Dorian had never heard his voice go so high. “What happened out there?! He’s… he’s not supposed to…” He fell to his knees by the bed, taking Athros’ hand in is. “You idiot” 

“It’s not so bad.” The inquisitor’s words were slow and slurred. He gave painful little grunts as he tried to move closer, tried to see Dorian with the one eye that wasn’t bandaged. “I get that stuff. The fuzzy stuff. Cole? Can I have more?” 

“They told me to stop. He was in pain but they said I was giving too much.” Cole explained to Dorian. “He was in more pain then. I could hear it past the mark.” 

“You’ll get more when the healers say you can.” Dorian leaned over to press a gentle kiss onto his lips to silence his argument. “Now be good and do what the healers say.” 

“But I-“

Another kiss to silence him, longer than the first. “No buts. Listen to the healer and get better.” Dorian stayed by his side as the healers worked their magic. He wished, no for the first time, that he could heal. If his magic could close just one wound he would be happy. Instead he spent the ensuing days between the tavern and the infirmary, anxiously waiting. Each time he saw Athros, still bound in gauze from head-to-toe, he swore to himself he would never let Athros out of his sight again. 


	6. Day Six: Wearing each other's clothes

“Are those my smalls?” Dorian watched as his lover pranced about his, no their, room. The soft, white, silky material cupped his crotch. “Seeing as you don’t own any yourself, I’m guessing they are?” 

“I have a pair.” He traced the edge of the fabric, drawing Dorian’s eyes. “You bought me a week’s supply.” 

“Those were sea silk, and you never wore them.” Athros crawled back into bed, moving over Dorian. “These,” he cupped his lover through the fabric, “Are mine.” 

“Mmm, are they? No wonder they’re tight. Ah!” He laughed as Dorian gave him a playful slap on the ass. Of course, the smalls certainly were looking tight now with the thick outline of his arousal pressing against the fabric. Athros gave a little mocking pout as he ground his hips down. “So mean.” 

“You started it. If they’re so tight take them off.” 

“You take them off.” Athros stuck out his tongue and wiggled more, earning a moan from Dorian. He blindly reached for their nightstand with one hand while working the smalls down with the other. The smalls made it as far as his knees before Dorian gave up and moved to stroke his lover’s length instead. 

Athros worked the smalls the rest of the way off, kicking them into a random corner of the room. He laid out along Dorian, skin kissing skin every glorious inch of the way. “I love you.” Whispered words before heated kisses. Dorian found the vial he’d been looking for, pouring the cool oils over Athros’ ass, making him squeak in shock. One finger dipped into his lover, then another, steadily working him open for more. As much as Athros liked to tease, Dorian was in no way a ‘small’ man. 

“I should wear your clothes more often.” Athros moaned into a kiss, crying out as Dorian’s cock pressed into him. For a moment he couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All he could do was thrust back against his lover. “If- Oh yes!- If I wore your robes,” He trailed off on another moan. 

“If you ware my robes I’ll bend you over the war table.” Dorian grunted out, his fingers digging bruises into Athros’ hips as he steadied the man above him. He worked into his lover again and again until all words but their names were forgotten and they both came apart at the seams. 


	7. Day Seven: Cosplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween

Sera’s dress was marvelous; vibrant scarlet with gilded trim. It flowed effortlessly behind her as she glided across the ball room. The entire time she looked furious. “What exactly are you supposed to be?” Dorian was busy holding up the wall behind the punch bowel. Athros still hadn’t made his appearance so the Tevinter mage was playing wall flower. 

“Josie hid all my clothes! Should have just come naked. That would show her.” Across the room Josie was grinning like the cat that caught the canary. “Said I wasn’t gonna wear a stupid costume. She left me this. I’m a ‘noble women.’” The face she made said it was the worst possible thing she could imagine. “What’re you supposed ta be?” 

Dorian looked down at his blood stained clothes. “I’m a Venatori agent. Already got arrested once this evening so it might not have been the best costume choice.” Cullen, dressed as a lion, had to personally come to release him from the dungeons. “Have you seen Athros?” 

“Nah, the big boss man’s been stuck up in the war room all day. Which sucks cause he could make this party better. Needs more pranks.” She spiked the punch while she spoke, encouraging Dorian to get a second cup. It gave a lovely little burn down his throat while he searched he crowd for his lover. 

“Ah there he is! He’s not in costume?” Athros slipped into the main hall silently. Still in his boring Inquisitor clothes. Dorian opened his mouth, ready to call out to him when the words died in his throat. Athros turned just enough for him to see the bright sun adorned on his forehead. 

Dorian felt every bit of himself break in that moment. Sera said something, some curse, but he couldn’t quite hear it over his world crashing apart. It would be better to see him dead than as an empty shell. To see that beautiful face every day and never hear his laugh or feel his touch again. It was agony. 

Athros caught his eye across the room and smiled. A real smile full of love. Dorian was still teetering on the brink of despair when Athros made it to his side and pulled him into a hug. “Cullen told me you got arrested. I guess the guards are a bit over alert today. Sorry.” 

“You… your face…. Tranquil…” Words still failed him.

“Yeah, it was Lelianna’s idea. Seemed a bit tasteless but I couldn’t think of anything else.” He shrugged as if he hadn’t just terrified half the room and destroyed Dorian’s world for all of ten minutes. 

“It is tasteless you horrid prick!” Dorian couldn’t tell if he was crying or not but was too mad to care. How could Athros do something so thoughtless? He shoved the man away, a little harder than he intended. Athros hit the table and the punch toppled, spilling over his clothes. The guards began to gather once again. “I thought you were tranquil you idiot!” 

“I’m sorry.” Athros gestured for the guards to wait. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Again he tried to reach out for Dorian but his hand was slapped away. “Dorian…” 

It was as if Dorian suddenly realized they were in the main hall, surrounded by people. He glanced around at the crowd’s shocked faces then back at Athros. “Don’t follow.” He tried to leave with his dignity in tact, which was hard. Still he held his head up high and pushed through the crowd until he was deeper in the castle. His old room was practically empty, most things moved to Athros’ quarters, but it still had a bed for him to crash onto. 

The knock came soon after he’d tugged off the disgusting Venitori uniform and scrubbed the tears off his face. Athros didn’t say a word as he pressed open the door and poked his head in. When Dorian made no move to throw him out, he slipped into the room entirely. His clothes were stained a dark red from the punch and the offending mark had been scrubbed off his face, leaving a slight smear of make-up. “You okay?” 

“No.” When he laid out next to Dorian he brought a warmth he hadn’t known he was lacking. Dorian curled against him, needing comfort. “You’re wet.” 

“Someone knocked me into the punch bowel.” His fingers traced up and down Dorian’s spine, gently massaging as they went. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you.” 

“That’s three times now.” The tears threatened to start again. “Three times I thought I’d lost you. I wish…” He didn’t dare say it out loud. Even in his head it sounded foolish. 

“Me too.” Athros knew, of course he knew. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Dorian’s hair. “But where would we go? Tevinter? My clan? The only place we make sense is here.” At some point the party began again. Its music and laughter even reaching Dorian’s room. They never rejoined it, though. Instead they held on tight to a wish they could never have.


	8. Day Eight: Shopping

“It’s a better defense.” Athros stated with a shrug.

“I’m well aware of that but it’s hideous.” The pair were currently mulling over a new helmet for Dorian. So as not to ruin his pretty little head in battle, as Athros would say. Dorian glared at the cap before him as if it would attack.

“We can tint it back at Skyhold?”

“It’s color is hardly the problem. Orlisians,” He scoffed out the word with all the ire of a child’s temper tantrum, “what horrible fashion sense.”

“Then wear the one you have.”

“It isn’t strong enough! I would love to keep my hair the next time /someone/ decided to go waltzing into a dragon’s nest.”

Athros nodded along, not really listening. “Yes, yes, hair good dragons bad. Whatever you decide, ma vhenan, I support you.” His head cocked to the side and he nibbled at his lower lip while he stared off past Dorian.

“Well I think- Athros?” He followed his lovers gaze. “Are you staring at some man’s ass while I’m talking to you?”

“What?! No, no I would never.” He laughed nervously under Dorian’s glare. “Alright maybe, just glancing. Not really looking, just spotting in passing. It wasn’t even that nice of a butt. Please stop staring at me and say something?”

“You’re a horrible boyfriend and you’re buying me the ugly hat as an apology.” He shooed Athros toward the seller with the hideous thing then turned to try and pick out who had stolen his attention. It was hard not to worry when he knew exactly what sort of man Athros had been before they started dating. He wasn’t entirely sure he could satisfy the man alone and always worried the day would come when Athros was finally bored of him.

“Here you are, ma vhenan.” Athros held the hat box out proudly. He smiled at Dorian as if everything was perfect. As if he couldn’t be happier than he was in this moment. Dorian wanted to trust that smile, but experience warned him not to believe it. “What’s next?”

“What? Oh… Lunch?” Dorian was suddenly tired of shopping. He let Athros lead him to a small restaurant, not really focused on anything. While they waited for their food he played with the hat box, popping it open and closed again and again until something caught his eye. Was that imperial vestment cotton? The hideous hat had been enchanted plaid weave. He popped the box open fully so he could take the ornate hat out to admire it. “This is…”

“More your style? I really hope it is. You really didn’t seem to like the other.” Athros shrugged, blushing into his soup. “It should be even better than the one you were looking at defense wise.”

Dorian frowned at the hat, something tickling at the back of his mind. There had been one similar sitting just past him on the cart. One in the same direction of Athros’ mystery man. “You were looking at the stupid hat.”

“Trying to figure out how much it would cost.” Athros shrugged. “It’s not often I can surprise you. Half the time you pick out what gifts I’m going to give you before I can give them.” He reached over to snag a bit of Dorian’s food, happily stealing a large bite unnoticed. Dorian was too busy thumbing the stupidly sentimental hat.

“Thank you.” He pulled the hat on, grinning like a child on Feastday. “How do I look?”

“Like my adorable boyfriend in an expensive hat.”


	9. Day Nine: Hanging out with Friends

The tavern was packed. Wall to wall people milling about, drinking, singing, and trying to dance. Yet the long table in the corner was all but avoided. Oh your occasional brave soul would wander over from time to time to steal a glance, but for the most part it was private. Crowded around the table were the Inquisition’s finest. The advisors and inner circle of the Inquisitor himself. The big man himself sat, not at the head of the table, but in a darkened nook just off to the side. He quietly thumbed a small box while the others battled in a vicious game of Wicked Grace. 

“That’s your last sovereign, isn’t it Cullen?” Dorian dragged the small fortune across the table, settling it safely by his side. It was nowhere near as large as Josie’s, but at least he wasn’t losing. “Shall I win your shirt off you next?” 

“I learned my lesson last time.” The commander shot a weary glance toward their smirking ambassador. “I wouldn’t risk learning it again in a full tavern.” 

“Going to lose face in front of your soldiers? Come one Curly, be daring.” Varric waved a hand in front of his nose, daring him to snatch it. “What’s one shirt? Right, Boss? Boss? Damn Sparkler what did you do to him?” 

“Me? He’s been mulling over that box since Solas and Cassandra brought him home from the Exalted Plains.” Dorian looked Athros over, who apparently hadn’t heard a word despite being close enough. Instead he stared off at a distant window. It was rare for Athros to be quiet all of ten minutes, much less the week of sullen silence. At first he’d feared the man was in one of his ruts. A dark place he’d only seen glimpses of in old scars and whispered confessions. 

Cassandra on the other hand looked far too excited. All week she’d been a mysterious constant in the library. She’d rush past him to confer something quietly with Solas. Even now she watched him over her cards, practically bouncing in her seat. When she caught his eye, her gaze skittered away quickly, making her look painfully guilty. “Don’t look at me. I have no idea why he’s been so quiet. Not one single idea. I am just as lost as you.” 

“Remind me not to give you dangerous information.” Leliana noted as she glanced at her cards. “Your bluff is even worse without a set of cards in your hand.” 

Sera tossed her tankard, with the deadly precision of an archer, at the Inquisitor’s head, knocking him from his chair. The little box fell from his hand and bounced across the floor, landing finally on Dorian’s foot. “Hey! Lord of Elfiness! Stop moping about and come loose your gold.” 

“SERA!” At least it got his attention. Athros was off the floor in seconds, angrily rubbing the bump on his head that was sure to bloom later. “What was that for?!” 

Dorian simply rolled his eyes as the two began to argue. Josephine would cut in soon to calm them, least a pranking war begin in Skyhold. Instead he focused on the box that had Athros so enraptured. It was a small thing that fit in the palm of his hand and cracked open easily and revealed a thick ring crafted from ironbark. The band was engraved with the image of a dragon curled around a halla. “Athros? What is this?” 

“What is-“ When he stopped the little iron band his words failed him. Dorian had seen the man stare down a fear demon, and somehow had never seen him this terrified. “Oh, that. I- It’s not as flashy as the things you usually like. It’s traditional, though, to make it out of ironbark. Krem told me they tend to be bigger among Tevintor nobles….” 

“What tends to be bigger?” He knew. Maker he knew exactly what this was but he needed Athros to say it. Cassandra was practically bouncing in her chair and Dorian wanted to bounce right along with her. 

Athros drew in a deep breath, calming himself, then moved to kneel at Dorian’s feet. A collective gasp rushed through the tavern as their onlookers caught on to what Dorian was already waiting for. “I forgot how to say it in Tevine. Krem tried to teach me but… I was a terrible student.” He took Dorian’s hands, the ring already in place where Dorian would keep it for the rest of his life. “Dorian Pavus, will you marry me?” 

He said yes before Athros had even finished, but just to be sure he said it over and over again. It didn’t matter if the roar in his ears was the rush of his heart or the cheers of their friends. It didn’t matter that he was laughing and crying all at the same time. It certainly didn’t matter that the ring was the tamest bit of jewelry he’d ever owned. What mattered was the feel of Athros’ lips on his and the sound of his sigh of relief that Dorian said yes. What mattered was knowing that he really could have more with this man. 


	10. Day Ten: Animal ears

Dorian sauntered out of his closet, naked and proud with twin, black, floppy rabbit ears pinned into his hair and a matching tail below. “Rabbits need attention.” He declared, sprawling across Athros’ desk. A pile of reports fell to the floor as he stretched out to cover as much of the desk as possible. 

“I’m working.” Which didn’t stop him from eating up the sight of a naked Dorian sprawled out in front of him. 

“You’re always working.” Dorian rolled over, wiggling his fluffy tail at him. “You need a break.” 

“How is that tail even staying there?” 

Dorian reached back to tug at the tail, pulling it just far enough to reveal the plug it was attached to then sinking it back in with a moan. “That’s how.” 

“Just a little break.” Athros sounded breathless and aroused, just how Dorian wanted him. “The bed.” 

“No, your desk.” 

“Dorian, you’ve already ruined a day’s worth of work.” 

“If you want to play with my tail, you’re going to do it on the desk.” He moved until his feet hung of the edge of the desk, feet firmly on the ground. Athros gave a little huff of annoyance but didn’t push the matter. “Well? We going to play?” 

“Maybe I should leave you like this and continue my work down stairs?” Dorian could hear the man disrobing so the threat was a bit pointless. It wasn’t long before he felt the thick heat of Athros’ length rub against his cheeks, the fluff of the tail tickling his head. “The lube is by the bed.” 

If he stretched, Dorian could just reach into the top drawer of the desk. He pulled out the sleek vial of oil and waved it at his lover. “Moved it here last night.” 

“Oh? You’ve been planning this then?” The tail came out with a slick pop. His ass was already so wet, but Athros fingered more into him, just in case. “Have you been a lonely?” 

Slick with oil, his cock replaced his fingers. Dorian groaned low as he slowly thrust in and out. “Very lonely. You’ve been too busy for me.” He pressed back into each thrust. “Do you like the ears?” 

“I like the man wearing them.” He dipped to nip at Dorian’s shoulder. “Love the tail though. You should wear it more often.” 

“AH! Right there.” Dorian shuttered at the shot of pleasure. “I got you a set. You’d look great with the wolf tail. Kaffas!” Athros steadily sped up, his hand slipping under him to stroke his cock. When he tried to speak again it was in a broken mix of Tevine and their common language. 

Each thrust and every touch brought him closer and closer to climax. Athros whispered sweet, encouraging words in a language he didn’t understand. At some point the ears fell out of his hair, tumbling unto the pile of reports. It was a slow, steady ride to a toe curling climax. 


	11. Day Eleven: Wearing Kigurumis

“No.” 

“But it was a gift, Inquisitor.” Josephine pointed out. “The Arl will be insulted.” 

“Still no.” 

“I’m not wearing it either.” Dorian piped up. “Just in case you’re thinking of passing it off.” 

The ambassador looked over the gift. It was a pale pink, full-body nug costume. Complete with a nug head hood and booties. These outfits were starting to get popular in Orlais. It was an adorable little outfit, but both men stared at it as if it were a raging high dragon. “Well what do you want me to do with it?” 

“Give it to Leliana. She was raving about how cute nugs are. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Dorian pointed out and Athros was quick to agree. With a sigh Josie carried it away, leaving the pair to cuddle together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay a bit of a cheat, but I can't see either of them wearing one. Really want a nug kigurumi for myself though...


	12. Chapter Twelve: Making Out

His ass was frozen, his toes were numb, but he had a lap full of hot, needy elf so Dorian wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. They were supposed to be setting up camp. Scouts had spotted a storm closing in and if they didn’t hunker down now they’d be in trouble. Yet here they were, too busy kissing to focus on setting up a tent against the rocks. 

Dorian felt like he was melting with each steamy kiss. Athros had him pressed into the snow, hips wiggling against his. The elf’s hands were trapped between their chests, singeing his skin where they touched and leaving it exposed to the cold air while they traveled deeper into his robes. 

When he reached Dorian’s pants he broke a kiss to laugh, causing Dorian to flush bright red and shove him off. “Shut up! It’s freezing here!” 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Though he didn’t stop laughing. While Dorian shoved to his feet, the inquisitor fell to his side in the snow, clutching his belly as he laughed. “My poor little friend. Come here sexy, I’ll warm him up.” 

“Keep laughing and you’re not warming anything up tonight! You’re the one that shoved me down in the snow.” 

His shoulders still shook as he stood, but at least the laughter had subsided. “Come here.” 

“No.” Dorian was pouting and Athros decided it was the cutest thing in the world. 

“Please? I’m sorry for laughing.” 

“I’m cold, go set up the tent.” 

“Not until you hug me.” He held his arms out wide and waited. Dorian glared at him a long moment before shuffling back into his arms. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Dorian pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re still a dick. Now set up the tent so I can strip out of these cold wet clothes.” 

“I already did!” The pair swung around in shock, both readying a fireball at their fingertips. Cole stood by their tent, grinning proudly with his little hammer in hand. “You were busy so I did it for you.” 

Dorian just stared at him for a long moment before sighing and dropping the slowly building spell. “I don’t know whether to be happy we have a tent, or creeped out he was right there the whole time.” Either way, he was happy to have a warm place to hide away from the storm. He left Athros to handle their favorite little spirit and slipped into the tent alone. 


	13. Day Thirteen: Eating Icecream

“What is it?” The little pile of colored ice looked dangerously suspicious. Athros poked at it with the thin silver spoon Josie handed him. 

“Flavored snow from the Anderfells. We have chocolate and vanilla. It is a darling little treat and the barrels they sent are enchanted. They should keep for another few days.” Josephine announced proudly. She had already started in on her own bowel, as had half the inner circle. Dorian was too entertained by his lover’s reaction to bother with the familiar treat. 

Athros stared at the bowel of chocolate snow before him with skepticism. “I don’t know. The Keeper always warned us to avoid brown snow.” 

Was it wrong to find his confusion so adorable, Dorian wondered. “You never ate a frozen treat in your clan?” 

“Of course we did. The Keeper and I would freeze fruit for everyone to cool off with in the summer. Why would we eat snow? We’re too busy trying to keep warm when it snows.” He filled the spoon with a tiny scoop and brought it part way to his mouth. “You shem really eat this? You’re not messing with me?” 

“Yes, we shem eat this stuff.” Dorian rolled his eyes at the name. If he wasn’t careful, that shem stuff would get Athros in trouble. “Would you like to try the vanilla first? I thought chocolate because-.” Well he could hardly admit to Athros’ love of chocolate out loud. Not when he only knew about it because his lover had a habit of lapping it up off of him. His flushed face was enough of a tell to set Sera off laughing. 

With a sigh Athros finally took a bite. His nose scrunched up and his brow furrowed as he sampled his first taste of flavored snow. “It’s cold chocolate.” 

“Yes.” Dorian couldn’t help laughing. “That’s the point.” 

“I don’t like it.” He shoved it away, pouting like a child who hadn’t gotten his way until Solas laid a second bowel in front of him. A bowel filled to the brim with an assortment of frosted berries. A bit of a show off, in Dorian’s opinion at least, but it brought a smile to the Inquisitor’s face. “Thank you!” 

“Did you know the history of frosting fruit?” The inner circle let out a collective groan as the two biggest elven nerds huddled together to teach them all the unwanted, and frankly uninteresting, history of elven fruit freezing. 


	14. Day Fourteen: Gender Swap

“What could go wrong?” Was decidedly the worst phrase in any language. It didn’t matter what the task was, it would inevitably fail when those four words were uttered. So when Dagna and Athros began playing around with the anchor, Dorian physically flinched at the words. 

“You could die.” He pointed out but they both shrugged at him. Athros muttered something akin to ‘shem’ and Dagna nodded in agreement. “We could all die actually. Have you forgotten the Conclave?” 

“Technically? Yes, yes I have forgotten the Conclave.” That smug little smirk made his heart skip a beat. 

It did nothing to calm his fears though. “Funny. Maybe we should call Solas down he knows more about this thing than you.” 

“Solas! Excuse you, but whose hand is it stuck on?” He prodded the mark with a thin, lyrium wand as he spoke, exciting the tendrils of the Fade that slipped through his fingers. “I think I know what I’m-.”

Dorian watched in horror as one wrong move burst a rift from his lover’s hand. It pressed out enough force to send him flying off his feet. His skull cracked against the ground as he bounced twice and finally came to rest at the bottom of the stairs. How long he laid there, drifting through consciousness he wasn’t sure. One minute he’d been staring at his idiot love while the sun set behind him, the next he was struggling to sit up in complete darkness. 

Moving was hard as it brought wave after wave of nausea, but he didn’t dare give up. Inch by inch Dorian dragged himself across the ground, blindly feeling his way to where Athros had stood. He slipped in something wet and landed face first in a puddle. The coppery taste met his mouth and he heard screaming before he heard his own voice in it. 

The anchor was gone. There was no pulsing green light to lead his way. Had it died along with the man it was attached to? Was he buried under rubble? Dorian didn’t know. He didn’t even know it the bright flash of a fresh rift had blinded him. All he knew was he was lying in a puddle of blood where the Inquisitor had once stood. 

Time is irrelevant in the dark. It could have been minutes or hours before the torches arrived. Cullen led the group of scouts who fanned out through the Undercroft. By some miracle there was no cave in. Just a horrid mess of overturned machinery and equipment. Dagna lay just to his left, looking just as dazed as he felt. 

“Droain? Dorian can you here me?” Gentle hands pulled him from the puddle to his unsteady feet. When he was unable to stand alone he found himself face first in that ridiculously fluffy mantle. It matted where his cheek touched and turned a dark red. “What the hell was he laying in? Where are the healers? Thomas! Have you found the Inquisitor?!” 

“Smells like blood lotus sir. I think he’s just dazed from the blast. The Arcanist too. She’s bleeding a bit but she’ll live.” Other voices faded in and out. Dorian wasn’t sure he was awake the entire time despite trying. At one point he found himself laid out on a table, not remembering how he’d gotten there or when Cullen had let go. 

Dorian watched as the scouts worked their way through the mess of the Undercroft and felt his heart break anew every time they failed to find him. When someone mentioned looking at the bottom of the cliff for a body he whimpered in pain. He hardly even felt it when Cole took his hand and squeezed lightly. “They’ll find him.” The little spirit seemed so sure. “They’ll find him, Dorian.” 

Hours ticked by before someone let out an elated cry. “Commander! I found him.” Sick or not Dorian rushed to his feet, swooning into Cole’s waiting arms when the motion was too much. The scout in question lifted a slim, red-headed elf out from behind overturned rune crafting materials. 

“Is he alright?” Cullen helped the scout lay their leader out on a table near Dorian’s. “Maker’s breath. What happened to him?” Even from his distance Dorian could see that the anchor was missing. His hand looked odd, smaller somehow, without the pulsating light. Of course, Cullen wasn’t looking at his hand but instead at his chest. Dorian followed his gaze, fearing the worst, and found two fairly large breasts adorning his lover’s chest. 

-To be continued- 


	15. Day Fourteen: Gender Swap part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I have a sick cat and can't write as much as I'd like.

When Arill woke up there were two things she was certain of. First, she was very, very naked. Not just bare of clothes but of all weapons. The second, she was not amongst her clan. The first was easy enough to remedy. Fighting naked was hardly a bother and the room she was trapped in was filled with makeshift weapons. A quick search had her armed with a small surgical knife and a slim bone saw. 

Next was to find the others. All she remembered was a brilliant flash of green light then here. What if the others hadn’t been so lucky as to wake up relatively safety? The door was unlocked, her captor’s mistake, and she was able to slip from the room into the cool night air. 

Before her was a long line of training dummies. A large brick wall rose to her left, topped with pacing soldiers lit by their torches. She pressed close to the wall, carefully moving her way deeper into the keep. 

“He’ll wake up soon.” She dipped into the shadows as a small group approached. “He’s reacting positively to the spells, Dearie. We’ll have our inquisitor back. Perhaps you can convince him not to fool around with that mark of his?” The shem reminded her of a dragon; tall, stern, and baring a great horned hat. As terrifying and beautiful as a force of nature. Beside her was yet another human. One with an impressive mustache. 

“Oh he’ll certainly get a piece of my mind when he wakes up.” The man scoffed. “Playing with such old magic without precautions is foolish.” 

“Playing with old magic is foolish period. No matter the imagined precautions.” The two mages shared a quick glare but continued on as if it was nothing. “I’ve written all my closest friends, but no one knows how a spell could alter a body so entirely.” 

The man nodded along. “Nor do I, though several magisters have begged for more information.” 

“Ah, Tevinter. Always ready to play in magic they don’t understand.” The woman shook her head. “I do hope you refused to play to their whims.” 

“Of course, I’m not a fool.” The man shoved open the door to Arrill’s cell. “That spell nearly brought Skyhold down.” 

The mention of Skyhold had Arill slipping closer. Hadn’t Athros’ last letter come from here? 

“ATHROS!” The male mage shrieked when he realized Arill’s bed was empty. She watched as the man rushed back into the clearing, calling the guards to him and demanding a search of the grounds. The woman was much calmer when she spoke, but her face mirrored the man’s worry. 

“The Inquisitor is missing. He must be scared and confused with how the spell changed his body. Find him quickly before he hurts himself.” She instructed. “Calm down Dorian, we’ll find him. At least Athros has finally woken up.” 

“Yes, he’s woken up, leaned he now has breasts, and is running around naked. I’m so calm.” Dorian replied sarcastically. 

Arill took a deep breath and dared to walk into the light. All eyes snapped to her. The male mage looked away first, eyes cast toward the sky. 

“Athros.” The lady mage held her hands out. “Come here, Dearie. You’re safe.” 

“Athros?” Arill looked down at her body, proud of her curves. “Do I look like that twig of a man?” At their confused faces she laughed. “I’m Arill Lavellan. Athros is my twin.” 

“Your twin?” She had Dorian’s attention once more. “Then where the hell is Athros?!” 

-To be continued- 


	16. Day 15: In different clothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the lull. For anyone that was wondering my cat is doing much better. I'll try to get caught up in the next few days.

Four weeks and he still hadn’t been found. Whispers where begging to circulate that the inquisitor really was dead. At least the rumors that Arill was actually Athros had died down. No one who met the woman could mistake her for the sweet Dalish elf they’d all come to know. 

Arill was brash, rude, and volatile. She’d already challenged what seemed to be half the Inquisition’s forces to a duel and won. Dorian tried to get along with her, much to Arill’s annoyance. She was to be family after all, once he married Athros. If he ever married that stupid man. 

“He’ll get back.” Arill finally spoke up three hours into their game of chess. She was getting better at it but still took her precious time deciding her next move. When she sat like this with her chin in her hands, eyes darting across the board to find a weakness, brow creased in confusion, she looked so much like Athros. “I’ve been with that idiot from the start.” She continued as she slowly made her move. “He doesn’t die easily. He’d better not.”

Dorian swiftly made his next move and laughed a bit and Arill’s annoyed grunt. “He seems to always be right on the edge of death. I’ve almost lost him, so many times. Too many times.”

“Well I won’t say he isn’t fragile. That boy will break more times than you can count. He gets these voices in his dreams… nasty voices.”

“All mages do.” They both knew just what demon plagued Athros. They’d both seen the scars a constant barrage of despair could leave. 

“Yeah, but no matter how much he breaks, he hasn’t died yet. Just puts himself back together and keeps going. For the good of the clan, or the Inquisition now.”

“Does that bother you?” Arill made a fatal move and Dorian went in for the kill. “Check mate.”

“What?! No, you… you were over…. AH!” She glared at the board then sat back to sulk a bit. She looked just like her brother when she pouted. “Well I certainly hate him hanging around so many shems now. He’s supposed to be our Keeper. Instead we’re stuck with Isal. Now Isal is nice and all, but hardly a leader. We need Athros and instead he’s out here playing with you lot.” She cast a pointed glance at Dorian’s engagement ring. “And he doesn’t seem to have any intention of coming back.”

“I’m sorry.” Well this was going perfectly. He was really winning over the in-laws here. “Though, who knows what he’ll do when all of this is over.”

“Um, me?” The pair swung around in time to see Athros limping toward them. He was dressed as a scout with the inquisition helm pulled low over his face. It didn’t matter how covered he was, Dorian recognized him instantly. 

Chess pieces flew through the air as Dorian toppled the table over in his attempt to get to Athros. That constant ache in his chest finally stopped when he pulled that laughing idiot into his arms and felt them fit perfectly together as they always had. Athros’ laugh echoed behind him and it took him a moment to realize the twins were laughing together and fell into the laughter himself.

When his knees gave out Athros went with him. They tumbled onto the ground, still cuddled close together. That first welcome back kiss was swift and desperate; a mere affirmation that the other was really there. The next was deeper, then the next, and the next. “I missed you.”

“Missed me? Ha! Is that all you have to say?! How about ‘I’m so sorry I did that, Dorian’ or ‘I won’t mess with the anchor again.’ You’re lucky I missed you too.” 

“I’m so sorry I did that, Dorian. I won’t mess with the anchor again… for a while at least.” 

“Oh you are a terrible man, and I hate you.” By now the rest of the inner circle had filtered into the court yard. Leliana’s doing no doubt. Still the two men remained cuddled close in their own little world for just a little longer. “I still hate that uniform.” 

“Even on me?” 

“Especially on you.” 


	17. Day 16: Doing their Morning Rituals

“Amatus.” Dorian tried to sound severe but he could never seem to stop smiling when his lover was in the room. “You’re staring again.” In the corner of his mirror he could see the Lord Inquisitor settled on the edge of their bed. He watched in wide eyed wonder while Dorian shaved his morning scruff and shaped his goatee. 

“You have to do that every morning?” Athros moved like a cat, gracefully fluid. Even just walking across the room he drew Dorian’s eyes. Of course it might be due to his unashamed nudity. Dorian’s eyes never left the mirror but he could still easily see the bright red marks his mouth had left on his skin. They started at the nook of his neck and trailed over his taunt stomach and dipped between his thighs. 

Just the sight of him, bare and ravished, had Dorian heating up again. How the pair ever managed to crawl out of bed, he wasn’t sure. “Hmm?”Athros draped himself over Dorian’s shoulders, dragging a finger through his thick shaving cream. “Ah, yes. Every day or I’ll end up looking like Blackwall.” The pair shared a shudder at the thought of Dorian with a full beard. 

“You’ll keep this right?” Athros’ fingers skimmed over Dorian’s prized mustache. He leaned in close, nibbling on Dorian’s ear. “I love how it tickles when you… well…” He didn’t even have to finish and Dorian was blushing at a memory. _Skin taunt and slick with sweat. His lips stretched wide over the girth of his lover, his nose brushing his belly. Each lap of his tongue drawing forth a desperate moan._ The memory alone had him letting out a low moan. 

“You are a horrible tease.” He tried to return to his shaving but the fingers playing across his chest and the hot breath across the back of his neck was a bit distracting. “If you keep that up I’ll cut myself again.” 

“Well I wouldn’t want that.” Of course he didn’t move. “Promise you’ll come back to bed after? When you’re all soft and clean shaven?” 

“Don’t you need to get ready for your meetings?” 

“Yes, but after I have thoroughly ravished my fiancee.” Athros finally let go so Dorian could finish shaving. His hips swayed in time to some imaginary song his entire way back to the bed. “Hurry up love.” Dorian decided the few scrapes from a quick shave were well worth crawling back into his lover’s bed. 


	18. Day seventeen: Spooning

Dorian could barely see Athros through the stacks of letters piled along his desk. “Fan mail? Anything I should be worried about?” 

“Not unless you think I’ll leave you for an overzealous Fereldan Bann. I think he tried to draw me a sexy picture but I can’t quite make it out.” Athros turned the page to the side as if that would make it clear. “There’s a letter for you on top. At least I figure it’s for you. I don’t read Tevine.” 

Dorian grabbed the letter and worked it open as he flopped onto their bed. He curled up onto his side and stared at the familiar handwriting on the page. It began ‘my dear son’ and he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. 

“Dorian?” The bed dipped behind him as Athros crawled in. He cuddled up behind Dorian; wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to his tear stained cheeks. “What is it, ma vhenan?” 

“My mother.” Dorian fell quiet as he read. 

_My dear son, Your father tells me that you refuse to come home. That you’re having a dalliance with that elven zealot. Are you trying to-_

Dorian crumbled it up and tossed it across the room. “I don’t care!” Athros’ arms tightened around him. “I don’t care what that woman wants! It’s not wrong. You’re not wrong.” He turned, needing to see his lover. Without a word Athros pulled him into a kiss, sweet and slow. “I don’t need them.” 

“You can have my sister if you want. She’s more family than anyone can handle. She adores you for some reason.” Athros brushed a hair from Dorian’s face, his smile contagious. “You’re not alone ma vhenan.” 


	19. Day 18: Doing something

“I have to do it.” 

“No, we can get through this together. There has to be another way.”

“You know there isn’t. You can do this, Dorian. I’ll draw the fire and you finish it. I believe in you.”

“Athros,” he took the elf’s hand and tugged him into a quick kiss, “with this it’s all over.”

“Give ‘em hell.” The pair nodded then Athros took off, bolting from the safety of their barricade and into danger. Dorian waited, peeking over the barricade at the enemy. He just needed that flash of red. There! He aimed with deadly precision, taking out the enemy just as Athros hit the ground. It was over, it was all over.

“Team Athros wins!” Josephine called out. “Dorian is the last man standing! The Snowball Championships are over!” Cheering filled the small clearing just outside of Skyhold. Leliana crawled out from behind her barricade, pale snow melting in her fiery red hair. 

“They got luck this time.” She was laughing which was a rare sight in Skyhold. Everyone was laughing really, and either covered in snow or bundled up in furs. 

“Exactly, next time my team will certainly win.” Cullen cast a glance at his soldiers who all looked away in random directions. 

“Please, Sera took out half your regime in ten minutes. If she hadn’t been celebrating you would have never caught her.” Athros scoffed as Dorian helped him up. Snowflakes tipped his delicate lashes and somehow made him even more beautiful. He shook slightly but was grinning from ear to ear. 

“Yes well, we’ll need to run more drills on dodging projectiles. Still, your teammate went out first!” 

“That hardly counts, Iron Bull didn’t even fit behind the barricade. Sorry Bull.”

“It happens.” The large man shrugged. “I’m just proud of how long Krem and my boys held out.” He clapped the smaller man on the back, nearly knocking him back into the snow. “Third place wasn’t so bad.”

The entire group started to wind its way back towards Skyhold. “You should use that prize money to buy us poor losers a drink.” Harding spoke up, though she could hardly be heard from where she was hiding under Krem’s arm. “Maker I’m freezing.”

“No, I know this guy, who bred flaming bees. Just think of it, bees and fire all over Corifytits.” Sera was still bouncing and had to be the only one in the group still warm. “Need fire-proof jars though.”

“I think drinks are more manageable.” While Sera pouted the rest cheered. “Come on, that means a drink for you too.” That had her cheering up a bit.

“Just don’t get too drunk.” Dorian whispered in his ear. “You know how you get.”

“Well keep your pants firmly belted.” Athros whispered back. “And nothing will happen in the pub. You’ll just have to carry me off to bed.” 


	20. Day 19: In Formal Wear

While he was usually assaulted by the fashion nightmare that was his beloved’s closet, on special occasions Athros allowed Dorian to pick something out. Dressing Athros was one of his favorite things. Tonight’s dinner with the King of Ferelden was the perfect excuse to pull out that lovely robe he’d ordered from home months ago. The green would bring out his eyes and the gold fringe screamed power. “It’s perfect.”

“I’m not wearing that.” Athros noted as he slipped past Dorian into his closet. “I think Josephine picked something out for me.”

“I picked something out for you. I picked this out for you.” Dorian gestured at the robes.

“I’m not wearing that.”

“Why not?!”

“It’s from Tevintor. You know, your homeland. How likely it that that little bit of cloth is was stitched together by elven slaves? That the material was gathered by elven slaves? Hmmm?”

Dorian shoved the robe back into its box. “You’re so damn picky.” Athros gave him a look. “Fine, but at least wear the shoes. They’re from Orlais, I swear!” 

“I don’t wear shoes. I’m Dalish.” He tugged on some ghastly blue thing Vivianne probably picked out. It screamed Orlisian fashion. At least no mask came attached. “This looks fine.”

“Fine? You look so… blue.”

“Blue is fine.”

“Blue is not your color.” Dorian pouted. It was a lie of course. The damn bastard looked good in anything with his pretty lashes, wide lips, and slim figure. “I’m dressing you for the next one.”

“Fine, but not slaves and no shoes.” Athros took his hand. “Now come on, let’s not keep King Alistair waiting.”


	21. Day 20: Dancing

No one really knew how the party started. It erupted from quiet drinking to singing and dancing spilling out off a too full tavern into the courtyard. Dorian found himself center stage, twirling in the arms of his lover to the beat of some Ferelden ditty. It had to be a first for him, dancing so publicly. At least, not with another man.

Every ball and gala he’d been forced to dance with any debutant his mother thought could improve the Pavus name. Now here he was, pressed chest to chest with the man his loved as he leapt to the beat of the song. Peasant dancing, his mother would call it. It was quick and merry and lacked the stiff social graces of formal dancing. 

There was a stich in his side and he was out of breath, but he didn’t dare ask for a rest. Here no one was staring at him like some social pariah. Here it didn’t matter that he had a man in his arms. No one cared. Had dancing ever been this fun before? Quietly, in the distance, he could just barely make out the sound of Cole asking the bards to play another quick one. “For Dorian and the Inquisitor.” The little spirit announced. Dorian had but a moment to catch his breath before he was swirling through the courtyard once more. His laughter ringing out above the music. 


	22. Day 21: Cooking/ Baking

“Is that how it’s supposed to look?” Dorian glared at the burned mess in his pan. 

“No… No I’ve never seen anyone ruin such a simple dish so horribly.” Shaya, one of the many Dalish recruits, stared at Dorian’s pan in horror. “Have you never cooked anything? Ever?” 

“I’m pretty good at potions and stews. Anything where you throw everything into a pot and heat it up.” 

“I could teach you a common stew-“

“No, no this is his favorite.” Dorian slammed his fist on the counter. “Damn it! It’s one stupid cake. How can I mess it up so bad?!” 

“I have no idea. There’s four ingredients. I could just make it for you.” 

“No, no I wanted to do it myself.” He turned to the pile of ingredients and started once again. “Flour, milk, egg, honey…” 

“You know, Josephine is planning to have a cake brought in from some famous baker, right? I’m pretty sure the desserts are covered.” 

“It’s tradition. He always has one on his birthday. His father made them.” Butter the pan, pour in the mixture, shake out the bubbles. “This is the first time he’s celebrated it without his clan. The least I can do is back him a cake.” 

Shaya watched him carefully then moved to help him. “Mother used to tell me stories about you magisters,” she ignored his attempt to correct her, “and you’re nothing like the blood thirsty monsters she warned me about. In fact I’m pretty sure I saw you squeal at the sight of blood.” 

“I did not!” 

“Oh no! The blood is on my robes! How will I go on! I got bloody! In a fight!” He wasn’t sure what was more insulting, the fake accent or statement itself. “Oh stop glaring. I’m still helping you aren’t I? Come on, we’ll get Athros his proper cake. You shems can’t throw a proper party for the life of you.” 

Five cakes and one scolding from the cook later and they had something presentable. It was still burnt along the edges and a bit dense, but to Athros it was perfect. Josephine’s towering masterpiece of a cake was entirely forgotten when Dorian placed the familiar dish in his hands. “Thank you.” Tears slipped down his cheeks as he remembered his father presenting him with the same thing every year. The same father that had followed him into the Conclave. For one night he was given a little bit of home and it was the best gift of the night. 

\-----

“Happy birthday my twins!” 

“You can’t even tell them apart can you?” 

“Shia! Of course I can tell them apart.” Feyren glanced between the two toddlers. “That one’s Arrill! She looks just as smug as her mother.” 

“Alright, you win this time.” Shiara laughed as she bent to kiss Arrill's cheek. 

Athros tossed his chubby little arms in the air. “CAKE!” 

“Yes, yes, cake.” Feyren passed handed over a slice of the slightly burned honey cake. “Here’s to another year. May you both grow bigger and stronger.” 


	23. Day 22: In battle

Stupid Red Templars. Stupid Hissing Wastes. Dorian was bone tired and had sand in places that sand had no business being. The light of their camp fire was obvious and so damn close. He could see it dancing tantalizingly in the distance. 

“We’ve almost got them all, Dorian.” Athros was right in front of him and the bastard was twice as enticing as that damned fire. The heat of the dessert had him bare chested even in battle. Even while he focused on the enemy he could see the elf’s lovely back tensed, and taunt as he curled his body into every spell. “Where’s the- AUGH!” 

Dorian didn’t even see the shadow before it appeared between them. One long arm fused into a spike of red lyrium speared into his back and the force lifted him from the ground. It all seemed to happen so slowly, but Dorian couldn’t move fast enough. Athros was thrown to the ground, unmoving, by the time Dorian was able to set the shadow on fire. Cole was there shortly after to finish him off while Dorian collapsed to beside him. “Don’t be dead!” 

“Dorian! Is he-“ Cassandra was at his side first, but didn’t dare get between them. 

Cole on the other hand shoved Dorian out of the way, rolled Athros onto his back, and shoved a health potion down his throat and poured a regeneration potion over his wound. “Do you think he’ll be mad I used his spare potion?” 

The wound began to close before their eyes and Athros let out a low groan that let them know he was alive. “If he yells at you for saving him I’ll punch him.” Dorian promised. “Cassandra can you-“ Before he could finish she was hefting the elf over her shoulder. The group made it back to camp without further incident, and Athros was able to make a full recovery in a few days. Of course, he was a bit upset to find his potions stash depleted. 


	24. Chapter 23: Arguing

Athros slammed his hands on his desk just to break the silence. Dorian’s glare was cold enough to freeze dragon’s fire. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” 

“I thought we weren’t talking about it.” Dorian silently applauded himself on how calm his voice sounded. Inside he was screaming. Athros was supposed to be his lover, his fiancée, but what he’d seen…

“You can’t sulk all day. I didn’t do anything!” 

“It didn’t look like nothing.” 

“We hugged! I hug a lot of people, Dorian. You never had a problem with me hugging Cole, or Harding, or Josephine. Why is this different?” 

“Maybe because you haven’t sucked them off!” 

“I- Fendis! You’re impossible!” Athros collapsed back into his chair. “Taven is here to help the inquisition, not to get back in my pants. His wife was killed by the demons of a rift.” 

“The wife he left you for who is now conveniently out of the picture.” 

“She’s been dead for barely a month! He’s grieving, Dorian! I was comforting him!” 

Dorian had to take deep, calming breaths to keep his anger in check. It was no use burning down Skyhold in his rage. “He might be grieving but what about you? Your first love is back and you get a second chance.” 

“Dorian!” Athros seemed ready to get up again but Dorian beat him to it. He stormed down the stairs, not flinching a bit when Athros called after him. It was too easy to picture Athros and Taven in that room, making love on their bed. Dorian knew it would have ended eventually, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. He tugged off his ring and dropped it on the stairs as he rushed past. It was too heavy a reminder. 


	25. Day 24: Making up

It wasn’t there. Of course it wasn’t there. A tiny silver ring dropped on the stairs of the tallest tower of Skyhold wouldn’t be easy to find, but Dorian had to try. How could he have been so stupid as to drop it? 

He wanted to apologize and regretted the fight. Though he still wasn’t fond of the idea of Taven being in Skyhold, he knew he had to trust that Athros wasn’t going to leave him. Of course, he couldn’t apologize until he had his damn ring again. 

“Dorian?” His head shot up to find Athros at the bottom of the stairs, running up to meet him. “I was looking everywhere for you. You can’t just run off in the middle of a fight.” Before Dorian could escape again he grabbed the mage’s hands. “I’m sorry, alright? I won’t hug Taven again. He has other friends here that can comfort him. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” 

“No I’m sorry. I over reacted.” Dorian tugged him closer. “I guess part of me is still convinced you’ve got one foot out the door. I’m sorry. I um… I lost my ring.” 

“You mean this ring?” Dorian all but snatched it out of his hands when he saw the silver band. It fit snuggly back on his finger, right where it was meant to be. “I found it on the stairs when I was running after you.” 

“Thank you.” He pulled the man into a kiss. “Come on, I’ve heard a rumor I’m curious to try out.” 

“What would that be?” 

“That make-up sex is the best sex.” Dorian tugged him up the stairs and to their bed. 


	26. Day 25: Gazing into each other's eyes

It was a sight he could never get enough of. Beautiful grey eyes watching him, pupils blown wide with arousal. Neither could look away as Dorian steadily slid in and out of him. Both too enraptured in the other’s pleasure. 

Dorian’s cock rubbed against his prostate making him tense and cry out in pleasure. His eyes snapped shut but opened again the instant Dorian caressed his cheek. Grey eyes, stormy with desire searched his, silently asking and silently being answered. 

Athros whimpered as his lover sped up his thrusts. The sound of slapping skin and panted breaths filled the air. Reach touch and every move sent electricity shooting through him. Dorian asked him something in Tevine but his eyes translated it all. “Yes, ma vhenan, please.” They watched each other until they couldn’t take it anymore, each closing their eyes as pleasure took over and all they could do was cling to one another. 


	27. Day 26: Getting Married

“What do you think is in there?” They were camped on the edge of the arbor wilds. In the morning their soldiers would push through to Corypheus’ army. For now at least they were together. Dorian had no idea what tomorrow would hold. Would the man lying in his arms even still be alive? Would he live through it himself? 

“Birds, bugs, trees, and several people that want to kill us.” Athros admitted. “We’ll get through it, Dorian. Don’t worry. When this is all over, we need to plan a wedding.” 

“What if we don’t make it through this?” 

“We will.” 

“But-“ Athros silenced him with a quick kiss. “We should get married now, so if one of us doesn’t make it…”

“The other is left a widower?” 

Dorian sighed. “Is it such a bad thing to want a tie to you even if you’re gone? What are you doing?” Athros was rummaging through their bags. 

“Here.” He couldn’t find ribbon but used some rope from his bags to tie their hands together. “We’re still having a wedding after all of this is done, but until then this will have to do.” 

“A hand fasting?” The knot would lock their hands together until dawn but Dorian still held tight to his lover’s hand. After all, it was bad luck if they came apart. 

“I swear to love you until the end of my days, Dorian. May all the Creators, and your Maker know that we are bound together.” 

“And I will love you until the end of my days, Athros. No matter what happens.” They kissed to seal their promise, then held tight through the night. Bull teased them for the rope burns in the morning but Dorian wore them proudly.


	28. Day 27: On one of their Birthdays

Athros settled into the chair across from Sera. “He didn’t like it.” 

“Who didn’t like what?” Blackwall looked between the giggling pair of elves. 

“I can’t believe you did it. How’d you keep it up. Ew! Not that way!” 

“Bit of rope tied around my back.” 

“Keep what up? What did you two do?” 

“I didn’t do anything, it was just a suggestion for a certain mage’s birthday.” 

“You two plotting is never a good thing.” The elves gasped at him in mock shock. “What did you give him?” 

“His dick in a box.” Dorian announced as he joined the group. Blackwall stared in shock at the inquisitor who was busy laughing along with Sera. For some reason the man was always shocked by his antics. Even though he’d been pulling pranks since Haven. 

“Hey, it’s not like it was something you didn’t like.” Athros managed to say between laughs. “I swear you have another present at the party tonight.” 

“You going to put a bow on your butt?” 

“Sera! Don’t give it away!” 

Later, Dorian was happy to learn that his second gift was actually a newly crafted staff and not a bow on his lover’s ass. 


	29. Day 28: Doing something ridiculous

Dorian entered the court yard to the sound of barking. A young mabari was dancing around a tree, barking happily up at the branches. “Well, who’s are you? Did you catch something?” He knelt to rub the mabari behind the ears, smiling when the pup gave him a happy yip. “You’re so cute.” 

He glanced up into the branches to find the young mabari’s prey and at first thought he’d found a large cat. Light reflected back at him from two wide, terrified eyes but the longer he looked, he realized the figure was an elf. “Dooooriaaaan” The elf whined. 

“Athros?! What are you doing up there? I thought you were in a meeting with Mother Giselle?” 

“I never made it to the Chantry. That thing showed up.” The mabari barked and athros hissed at it. “Make it go away.” 

“It’s just a puppy. Come here, he won’t hurt you.” 

“I don’t want to.” He actually moved further up the tree in fact. “I’ll just wait until it leaves.” 

“It’s a mabari. He’s not going to just leave. Come here, I’ll carry you out.” Dorian held his arms wide open. “Trust me?” Athros stared at him for a good minute before slowly climbing down into his arms. The pup barked again and he gave a shriek of terror and held tight to Dorian. 

“GO-go-go-go!” He screamed as the Tevintor mage carried him across the courtyard and into the safety of the main hall. 

“So you’re scared of dogs.” Dorian held tight as Athros shook in his arms. It didn’t matter that he was heavy, Dorian would put him down until he calmed down. “I never knew.” He rubbed the elf’s back, trying to comfort him. “You’re okay now.” 

“I hate dogs. I know they’re supposed to protect you from Fen’Harel, but they always freaked me out.” Slowly he unfurled from Dorian’s arms but remained close. “Stupid, right?” 

“A lot of people fear dogs.” Dorian kissed the tip of his nose. “I guess I won’t as for a puppy for Feastday.” 

“Please don’t. The less dogs here the better. You won’t tell anyone?” 

“Not a soul.” He promised. 


	30. Day 29: Doing something sweet

Dorian tried not to wince as he peeled his robes off. He wasn’t eager to see the bruising underneath. Their most recent run in with a dragon had seen him thrown against a Cliffside. Now his chest was a mess of bruises. At least he hadn’t broken anything. The healers had assured him his injury would heal in a few days and sent him along so they could tend to their more pressing cases. Just because it was minor, didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Every move was agonizing. 

He tried to cover up when Athros came bounding up the stairs but simply couldn’t move fast enough. “That looks horrible. They’re certain you didn’t break anything.” 

“That’s what they said. Just horribly bruised. Apparently I’m lucky today.” Dorian groaned as he laid out on their bed. “I don’t feel lucky.” 

“I brought you something for the pain. My mother used to make it for the hunters.” The satchel he pulled from his bag was wet and pungent. Dorian didn’t want to be rude in the face of Athros’ mother’s home remedy, but it truly did reek. He couldn’t help holding his nose. 

“It’s not that bad, really. I’ll live.” 

“No need to be heroic with me.” Athros dipped his fingers into the satchel and they came out coated in a thick, brown, muck. “You’ll feel amazing with this.” Dorian flinched away as Athros smudged the goo across his chest. It was thick, pungent, and amazing. Where it touched his skin it soothed and calmed the ache instantly. Dorian soon found himself arching into the touch and moaning at the cooling feeling of Athros’ little home remedy. 

“It feels amazing. Your mother was a genius.” 

“She really was.” He smiled sadly. How long had it been since Arrill had sent word of her lose? Fighting off the demons that threatened the clan. Dorian tugged his lover down when a shadow of grief passed over his eyes. The two cuddled together for hours until they fell asleep, both comforted by the other’s presence. 


	31. Day 30: Something hot

It was all ridiculously extravagant. Dainty golden chains locked his wrists together and trapped them above his head. The breeze that floated in from the open window chilled his heated skin. The silk scarf that covered his eyes had been a gorgeous crimson, just like his hair. He didn’t know where Dorian would touch him next and the anticipation had him shuddering in need. “Dorian.” A little laugh answered his whine. 

“Not yet, Amatus.” Feather light touches trailed over his skin. Athros pressed into each touch, trying for more pressure, but each time his hand slipped away. “Tsk, tsk, so impatient.” Lips and teeth found a pressure point in the crook of his neck, making him moan. The blindfold made it seem as if Dorian was everywhere at once. 

Those lovely lips kissed a path from his collar to his navel. Each kiss lower had him hiking his hips up further. When Dorian skittered off his path to trace the lines of a tattoo with his tongue, Athros let out a little whimper. For a moment he forgot he was restrained and tugged against his chains. He just wanted those lips in the right place. 

“I love you.” The words were whispered into his thigh. A soft breath ghosted over his length before finally Dorian took just the head into his mouth. He slowly devoured every last glorious inch. 

“Dorian.” He started to struggle more. “Dorian please, I want to see.” That earned him a cute little laugh before his blindfold was removed. There was nothing more beautiful than the face smirking down at him. Well, maybe the body it was attached to. Dorian dipped to steal a kiss. “Ick, you taste like dick.” 

“Oh I wonder why?” That laugh was addictive. “You are horribly unromantic and lucky I love you. Now hush and let me finish.” Then he went back down again, driving his lover crazy with his tongue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments and so sorry it took so long to finish.


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